


Summer's Morning

by Desired_Misery



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America: Post Winter Soldier
Genre: Art, Ficlet, Gen, art with fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desired_Misery/pseuds/Desired_Misery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve like waking up in the mornings.</p>
<p> Some days, it's harder to wake up Bucky. Today is one of those summer mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer's Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I am reposting this, just fyi. 
> 
> Posted first on my tumblr, [CptSassRogers](cptsassrogers.tumblr.com)

It’s one of those blistering hot days that reminds Steve of their tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Everything hides out the shade and even that wasn’t enough. When Steve poked his head into their room, Bucky just groaned when Steve offered to make breakfast.

"Mm… I’m not getting up in this weather…"

And it didn’t help that Bucky’s body temperature jumps all over the place. Some days he curls up under hoards of blankets in 80 degrees and other times he kicks off the blankets and stand outside on their balcony in just pajama pants, letting the cold winter air cool him off.

Steve’s already sweating, so he can’t imagine how much the heat is bothering Bucky. They figured out that Bucky’s prosthetic generated heat, lots of it, regardless of the temperature. It had already overheated twice this summer. (Steve had to fill up the bathroom tub with ice so he could cool down the too hot metal. He couldn’t even touch it, and poor Buck had to deal with it causing blisters on his skin and heating up the flesh around all the synthetic muscles. It made for some very miserable afternoons.)

"I’ll make a smoothie, if you want some." Steve offers, combing his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

"Steve… it’s too hot." Bucky’s hair is already slightly damp with sweat, even though he’s not sleeping with any sheets. The fan is at it’s highest setting, but it doesn’t seem to help.

"Alright, Buck. Why don’t you take a cold shower and I’ll have breakfast ready for you when get out?" Bucky grumbles, but somehow or another crawls out his bed. He’s wearing nothing but boxers and the morning light catches the gleam of sweat on his skin.

"Hey, at least the air conditioning hasn’t died," Steve calls after him.

"If that happens, Rogers, it’s all you’re fault for mentioning it. I’ll murder you.”

"Okay, grumpy. Go take your shower."

__________________________________________

It’s been almost half and hour and Bucky still hasn’t appeared in the kitchen.

"Bucky?" Steve opens the bathroom door. Bucky sits with his back against the wall, legs stretched out on the tile floor. His hair is up in a bun, but a few damp strands have already fallen out.

"You’re going to damage the book if you get it wet." Steve says as he glances at the large history book in Bucky’s hands. He’s still only wearing a pair of boxers, different ones, Bucky looks less annoyed with the heat.

"I dried off, Rogers." Bucky replies, a few seconds delayed. Steve realizes the textbook is all about WWII.

"And aren't you making smoothies?"

"You’re not drinking it in the bathroom."

"Who says I can’t?" It’s the wicked gleam in Bucky’s eyes that has Steve pause.

"I did, Sergeant." Steve shoots back, using his best pulling rank voice.

"Too bad I’m not your soldier, Capt’n." And with that, Bucky dumps the book on the floor. In the same instant, Steve ducks out of the door way with a very undignified yelp. They both bolt to the kitchen, Bucky skidding on the floor with his wet feet. Steve’s so happy to see Bucky smile, he doesn’t mention Bucky’s slip.

Later, when Bucky is lazing on the couch with a mug of mint chocolate ice cream, Steve pulls out his sketchbook. With every stroke of his pencil, he tries to capture the calm moment of the morning. He tries to forget the way Bucky’s voice dropped and how his eyes looked a little blanker, a little darker when he said he wasn’t Steve’s “soldier”. Bucky’s home. He’s doing better.

Steve’s mantra sounds more like a plea this summer morning.


End file.
